


Scenes from an Inaba apocalypse

by narceus



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Gen, Grief/Mourning, No named characters die, Other, Post-Apocalypse, Soft Apocalypse, Survival, sometimes the world ends and it's not your fault, you just have to deal with it anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26624746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narceus/pseuds/narceus
Summary: In spring, Souji went home.  Summer was nice.  Summer was normal.  Fall...well, that's where things get weird.Sometimes the end of the world isn't actually your fault.  (If grand cosmic powers keep recruiting an endless string of teenagers and desperate disasters to save humanity, sooner or later someone's bound to get it wrong.)  There really wasn't anything the Investigation Team could have done to prevent this one.They'll make sure Inaba gets through it anyway.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _This work was originally posted to tumblr (probably many years ago), and is migrating over to AO3 as part of a 'fuck it, it's 2020, let's do something useful and back up our old trash/flashfic already' project that may or may not actually be successful._
> 
> The Apocaverse was originally a vague, sprawling series of ideas and chatfics spawned on my tumblr some 8-9 years ago, but this should stand more or less without context. The only really important thing to know going in is that the end of the world hits in November of 2012. The catastrophe itself lasts about three days. What comes afterwards...well, that's when things get interesting, really, isn't it?

The apocalypse takes three days, and it’s not their fault. It’s not a thing that the Investigation Team did, or didn’t do. Izanami’s nowhere to be found.

Naoto glances out the window at 7:00 at night and notices wisps of fog starting to creep in, and shudders, and makes herself concentrate on her schoolwork and not what’s surely perfectly normal weather. Chie jogs home through it and takes the hottest shower she can and doesn’t text anything to Yukiko, who’s working too hard to even look outside. Kanji pretends not to notice. But they wake up the next morning, and there’s fog outside, as dense as it ever was last December a year ago, and they look outside their windows, one by one, and freeze.

Half of them reach for their glasses and half of them reach for their phones. ”We shouldn’t panic,” Naoto says, even though their glasses split the fog as clear as day, just the same as ever.

“We’ll talk about this at school,” Yosuke says, trying to keep Souji’s calm authority in his voice and failing utterly.

No one can get ahold of Souji at all.

.

(It’s not foggy everywhere. The apocalypse is happening in a lot of different ways, in earthquakes and volcanoes and swarms of locusts and dragons, but Inaba knows the feel for this one particular way the world ends, it’s in the rocks and the trees and the river and every single one of the people who survived it last time. Some other heroes somewhere on the other side of the world fucked up, and Inaba knows what an apocalypse feels like.)

.

In Tokyo, there are monsters tearing at the skyline, earthquakes and buildings falling, and Souji doesn’t sit still for that kind of danger. He can’t. He doesn’t know how.

His parents are off on business god-knows-where, Hong Kong maybe, Paris, it doesn’t even matter. There are monsters. This is what he _does_.

He wakes up in the middle of the first night at the first rumble and looks out his window, expecting thunder, expecting rain, not expecting the dark shadows to come swooping down across the stars. He should call for backup, but all his backup is hours away. He should call a persona, but this is the real world. He runs down to the street anyway, his father’s golf club clenched in his hands, the closest thing to a weapon he has, same as it was all that long ago.

The first long, slithery thing, its skin an oily purple-black like an undistinguished shadow, throws him into a wall so hard Souji hears a sharp crunch. It’s his cell phone, not a bone, though, so he forgets it an instant later.

It’s midnight, the sky is glowing green, and Tokyo is full of monsters. He has no plan. He moves forwards.

.

They check Junes after school. The TV world is in perfect, pristine condition, not a flower or a blade of grass out of place.

By nightfall, it isn’t just Souji—not a cell phone or a TV antenna can reach out of Inaba. The internet’s down everywhere in town. The train to and from Okina City hasn’t run all day, but nobody knows if the problem is here, or there.

That night the first monsters show up.

.

“You—hey, kid!” shouts a man in a strange blue uniform, somewhere around midday. Souji’s ragged and exhausted. He needs backup, a diarahan, ten minutes to rest with a snack. He should go home and sleep. There are still people trying to walk the Tokyo streets to get to work. What is he supposed to do? "Go home, you shouldn’t be out here.“

"I can help,” Souji says, hefting the golf club, now twisted and streaked with green ichor. Some help.

“Let the professionals handle this,” the man says, but since when are there professionals for something like this?

Anything else he’s about to say is lost in the rumble of a nearby wall, the hiss of gravel crumbling out of mortar, the tumble of bricks starting to fall, and the enormous, looming, scaly beast suddenly rearing up before him. The uniformed man stumbles backwards, fumbles at his belt, drops something—

Souji only has reflex. He sweeps up his arm, his empty upraised hand, and clenches it down on a card that crunches in his grip.

“Izanagi!“ It’s just like the first time, the golf club dangling in his grip, the instinct moving his fingers, his tongue—but he’s left part of it out. ” _Izanagi-no-Okami_!“

He bursts from the card, enormous and shimmering, just slightly transparent, and meets the monster with the haft of his spear.

.

Nobody goes to school on the morning of the second day. They meet up at Junes anyway because where else are they going to go.

"We can’t stop this,” says Rise, shaken and terrified, shrinking into Kanji’s side, and Chie says,

“I don’t care, we have to help.”

“Based on the few garbled reports I’ve managed to collect that came from outside of Inaba before communications shut down, this does not appear to be an isolated phenomenon,” Naoto says. "And with the TV world still in pristine condition, it would appear that this may not be related to Izanami or the TV world at all.“

"Everything’s as normal and nice as ever there.” Teddie’s wilted. They’re all wilted.

“So what does that mean?” Kanji demands.

“It means we can’t stop it,” says Yosuke, blunt in his own defeat.

“Well I don’t accept that,” says Yukiko. She’s shaking. "There has to be something we can do.“

"Senpai wouldn’t just sit here and—” Kanji starts.

“Yeah well he’s not here, is he?” Yosuke demands.

“Yeah, but we are,” says Chie. "And I’m not just going to sit here and wait for the world to end!“

"Sensei would have wanted us to protect people,” says Teddie, which is true enough, even though Souji’s not _here_ and they _need him_ —

“How?” Rise asks. And Naoto says,

“Rise, do you happen to have a map of town?”

.

Tokyo is enormous. Millions upon millions of people live there. You think Souji’s the only hero?

Sometime during the second afternoon, he looks up to the darkened, lightning-rent sky and sees enormous mechas battling yet another monster. No telling where they came from. There are helicopters and flying machines and robots.

He rescues a cat from something that’s made of slimy skin and endless teeth. He shepherds people into buildings. He ends up in a part of town he’s never seen before, one foot in front of the other. Izanami-no-Okami heals him every time he beats down an enemy, but there are fewer of those. More shaking ground and stones and walls starting to fall, more desperately trying to shepherd terrified people somewhere safe, if anywhere here is safe. Ardha can cast Mediarahan over people five at a time, if Souji gets close enough to them, makes them, briefly, his. Ardha’s immune to physical attacks, too. They haven’t lost a fight to a wall yet.

****

He can’t fix this. He can’t fix anything. He can keep walking.

.

It’s almost impossible to see through the fog, but there are things out there, dark and tall and looming, and the whole town of Inaba behind them, needing protection. Dojima raises his head to try to peer through the murk one more time, and then sinks back down behind the meagre protection of his police car almost immediately. It’s no use trying to kneel. His left leg simply won’t support his weight.

Something roars. They might all die here today, every one of these men crouched down trying not to shake or cut and run or just drop the guns that not a one ofo them has had to actually fire in the line of duty before today. It might not even do any good to those behind them, but he can’t think like that. None of them can stand to think like that. There’s a crunching up ahead, and somebody whimpers, closer—Hirosoka looks about ready to take off back to town on foot, and if he breaks, half the other men will too—

Something else roars, and it’s not in front of them. It’s down the road behind them, and it sounds like a _motorcycle_.

“ _Rokuten Maoh_!“ There’s a squeal of tires as the dark shape barrels towards them, but it’s almost lost in the rush of the enormous, towering red form that explodes upwards, and the tremendous crack as six bolts of lightning tear down out of the sky, finding six points to strike out beyond the police cars. Hirosoka looks about ready to wet himself, not quite sure where to look, and Dojima’s not entirely sure himself—

"Are you well, Dojima-san?” And _that’s_ a goddamn familiar voice, annoying and a heaven-sent relief all at once.

“Shirogane?” Dojima snaps. A smaller dark shape springs nimbly free of the larger bulk of a motorcycle and heads towards him. "What the hell are you doing here?“

"Saving your asses, Dojima-san, sir!” That’s not Shirogane, but Dojima recognizes Tatsumi’s voice well enough.

“Please, Detective,” Shirogane says, and it’s her all right, cap and all, coming out of the fog. "I’m afraid your men are hopelessly outmatched. We need to fall back. We’re here to escort you to the Amagi Inn.“

"Now hold on just one second,” Dojima demands. "What is going on here?“

"We don’t know,” Shirogane says—and that right there, more than anything, drives home just how _fucked_ they all are. There are inhuman monsters out there in that fog, and Shirogane Naoto just admitted to not knowing something. ”Please, Dojima-san, we have to evacuate.”

There are still sounds of a battle going on overhead, out in front—Tatsumi, who once took on an entire biker gang singlehandedly, now doing the same against a pack of god only knows what kind of monsters. Gods help them all.

“You don’t get to decide that, Shirogane,” he says, because he has to, and Shirogane takes a step closer. Ah, shit—he doesn’t think most men would notice, but Shirogane looks _scared_.

“Please,” she says. "The Amagi Inn. Satonaka-senpai and Amagi-senpai set out to establish a safe zone for the townspeople to evacuate. There’s a similar area set up at Junes. If you draw back, we’ll cover your retreat.“

"What the hell are you going to do?” Hirosoka demands.

“I—” Shirogane starts, but then pauses, looking upwards like she can actually see through the fog. Are those glasses new? "Excuse me for a moment. _Yamato-Takeru_!”

Dojima doesn’t even have time to think about the _gun_ she whips out before, in a flash of white light, there’s a new apparition in front of them, all swept-back angles and speed blurring away from them. A moment later, there’s a blaze of blinding white light. The aftershock rocks Dojima back, even behind his car. A moment later the light is gone.

“Dojima-san, it’s dangerous to be here,” Shirogane says. "For Souji-senpai’s sake. For Nanako’s.“

"Nanako?” She’s safe at home. She has to be. She was by herself this morning, but she knows not to open the door to anyone, she knows how to stay safe, she _knows_.

“She’s safe at the Inn,” Shirogane promises. "Amagi-senpai and Satonaka-senpai went through your neighborhood on their way. No harm will come to her. Now let us say the same of you.“

"That took care of them,” Tatsumi announces, spinning back through on—where the hell _did_ he get that motorcycle? ”Thanks for the save. There’s definitely more gearing up for the attack out there, though, so let’s get out of here.”

“Dojima-san can’t walk,” says Hirosoka accusingly. Shirogane’s sharp eyes, which Dojima had been hoping to avoid, narrow on the odd angle of his leg.

“You’ll have to drive him, then,” she says. "Amagi-senpai can heal him, if Amaterasu isn’t worn out. Neither I nor Tatsumi-kun is a healer.“

"We didn’t plan that out real well,” Tatsumi says, while Hirosoka sits and boggles at Shirogane’s ease. "But yeah, Yukiko-senpai’ll fix you right up.“

"The Amagi Inn?” Dojima struggles to fold his good leg under him and lever himself up on the body of the car. "Somebody has to get people there—"

“We’re on it,” promises Tatsumi.

What kind of police officer puts a pair of sixteen-year-old kids in charge of a full town evacuation in an emergency? Coms have been dead for three hours. They’ve got no orders here but his own. ”Listen up!” Dojima bellows, loud enough for the half-dozen other officers to hear. ”We’re pulling back! Comb the city for anybody who’s left, we’re getting everybody we can to the Amagi Inn.”

“Or Junes, if it’s closer,” Shirogane reminds him. "According to Kujikawa’s radar a large number of people have also taken shelter at the high school. We’ll be heading there next.”

“Is there a medic at Junes?” Dojima’s not thinking of his leg, he’s thinking of all the kinds of injuries a mass evacuation like this could cause, especially with those things out there still.

“Two,” Shirogane says. "Hanamura-senpai and Teddie are both capable at healing spells.“

"Anyone gets to Junes or the Inn, they’re safe,” Tatsumi says.

“Don’t worry, Dojima-san,” Shirogane says, as serious as he’s ever seen her. "We’ve seen worse.“

He’s not sure if he’s more worried that Shirogane’s lying to try to make him feel better, or that she’s telling the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes three days for the fog to lift, and nearly everybody is surprised when it actually does. People creep out from their fortresses, hesitant, nervous.

“Everybody, you should all come to the Inn if you can." Who needs cell phones when you’ve got Rise and Kanzeon in your ear? Rise sounds exhausted, but she’s the only one of them who doesn’t get injured. She’s that burst of energy and healing every time they beat up a monster, just about the only energy and healing Kanji and Naoto have had. They slept last night on the floor in a classroom–or, Naoto slept, with Kanji too wired full of worry for his mother and the town and his mother to shut his eyes, the motorcycle propped up against one wall and their weapons close at hand. It didn’t revive them like a good night’s sleep used to. The school is packed. Half the students actually went, on the day when everything actually went to hell, and they gathered up everybody else they could find on their way. "But, um, the Mayor wants you to ask everybody else to stay put for now.”

“The _Mayor_?" Well. Okay then.

"My dad’s not going to like it if we just take off,” Yosuke says, and if the people nearby give him funny looks for talking into thin air, well, they’ve been edging wide around him since Susano-o and Kamui exploded out and took on the flock of hairy, bat-winged wolves that tried to divebomb the roof. It sounds almost petty–his dad isn’t going to like it, oh no–but in this case it’s more like, Hanamura-san, manager of this Junes, who just got told by his teenage son that he was going to be figuring out how to take in and accommodate literally hundreds of refugees on almost no notice, and also oh by the way, sorry, monsters are real and attacking–he’s not going to like it.

Housewares is a disaster. Every futon and pile of bedding in the store has been pulled off the shelves and used, some of it still in plastic packaging. There’s a pile of haphazardly-opened first aid supplies strewn around the area where they keep the recliners. Teddie’s only got Mediarahan–burn a ton of energy healing a handful of people from death’s door all the way to perfect health. Yosuke’s got Diarama, one person at a time, and sometimes it feels like it’s worth almost nothing. Anybody wandering around with less than a broken bone needs to fix it the old-fashioned way.

“Also, can you swing by the school on your way?” Rise asks, distracted. “Naoto says they’ve got injured there who they can’t heal themselves.”

Yosuke glances wearily across the big open spread of Women’s Accessories towards the storage area for the food court. If this does go back to normal, Junes is going to go bankrupt from all the merchandise they’ve gone through. He’ll just have to explain to his dad why their only fighting support needs to go meet up with the rest of the group and apparently the mayor.

“On our way,” he agrees.

.

****

“We want to help,” Kou insists, drawing himself up to his full height, Daisuke looming next to him and Ebihara slightly behind.

“Then you can damn well stay here and make sure everybody else does too!” Kanji snaps. The last thing they need are more people running around and getting hurt out there.

Two people are dead, too badly hurt by monsters before Kanji and Naoto got there to save them. Konishi kind of took over first aid after that. Student Health Association, actually good for something–or at least Konishi is, with all the others freaking out over dead bodies and crying and scared. Konishi just got real serious and kept working.

They should’ve split the teams differently, put a healer with every pair. They could’ve stopped at the Shiroku store to find out if Old Lady Shiroku was even open and whether her crazy medicines worked as well in the fog as they always did in the TV world. Senpai would’ve thought of all that, instead of just letting them go tear off on instinct. The girls dragged Rise all the way across town with them instead of just leaving her at Junes where she’d have been safe. Of course, somebody had to take care of Nanako-chan while Yukiko-senpai and Chie-senpai were fighting. Still.

They’re just gonna have to do better, that’s all. “Kanji’s right,” Yosuke’s explaining. "We need you guys here to help keep people calm and not panicking. Someone’ll be back, I promise.“

"I believe we’re ready to go,” Naoto says, and Kanji nods. Okay. Right. Just one more thing.

“Can we stop by the shopping district on our way?" It practically is on their way, if they’re going to take the same route the bus does to get up to Amagi Inn. They didn’t find anything there the other day, nobody at all, they couldn’t see, and there wasn’t time–

Naoto, Teddie, and Yosuke exchange looks. "Are you sure you want to–”

“We have time,” Naoto says firmly, and damn if Kanji doesn’t fall in love all over again.

.

There’s nobody left in the shopping district–nobody left, nobody left, and Kanji just keeps gripping her waist on the motorcycle tighter and tighter–and then Naoto spots the shrine.

They have to get closer to see it. It’s hidden in all of the rubble of fallen buildings and upturned streets, or maybe they’re just all exhausted and Naoto is seeing things, but–yes. There, in the doorway of the still-standing arch, the fox, feet planted firmly, ready to snarl.

Its fur is singed and one ear is tattered and a little bloody. Naoto pulls the bike up so sharp that Yosuke and Teddie actually overshoot and Yosuke has to wheel around back towards them.

There are a full thirty-seven people crowded into the shrine, Shiroku-san and Daidara-san, Aika and her father–and Tatsumi-san. Thank the gods.

And not just as a figure of speech. They’re in a shrine. Kanji stumbles, almost knocks over Naoto and the motorcycle launching himself forward, and bulldozers straight through the crowd towards his mother. Naoto takes a moment to close her eyes and offer the most sincere and heartfelt thanks she can.

Shiroganes don’t rely on gods, but Naoto’s in no position to ignore that they exist. It’s the end of the world. They need all the help they can get.

.

****

One of the first things Yosuke says when the rest of the team finally shows up at the Amagi Inn is, “Hold on, you left him _injured_?” and Chie nearly punches him in the face.

Dojima-san, leaning half his weight on a makeshift crutch and with a splint made of sticks and cut-up tatami mats wrapped up around his left leg, glares. “Amagi’s had more important things to do with her power than waste it on me,” he says, which he’s been saying since he showed up here almost two days ago. And it’s true, but does Yosuke think they haven’t tried to convince him to stand still for one little Diarahan?

Yukiko’s barely slept in two days. Her mom’s in bed, again, and it’s not her fault that the apocalypse sent her working into another collapse but it means that Yukiko’s been practically running everything and there are more than six hundred people packed into the Inn right now. Yukiko’s their only healer. Yukiko’s been racing outside whenever another monster appears on the horizon, ready to help Chie tackle it head-on.

All Chie can do is patrol around the perimeter of the Inn and stay out of the kitchen, and try to keep Dojima-san from running around and trying to help with a broken leg he won’t let Yukiko fix.

Nanako’s been mostly running errands, making sure Yukiko and her father and Rise get to eat, and sitting in Rise’s lap, Kanzeon kneeling behind them, for hours and hours on end while Rise tries to monitor the entire town. She’s not scared of anything, Nanako. Chie wishes she were that brave.

“Enough,” Dojima says. “Amagi and Satonaka have filled me in on what they know." It’s mostly been Chie, with Yukiko so busy. She was awful, stammering and confusing, backtracking half a dozen times to fill things in about their old adventures through the TV. Souji would’ve done better. "And I’ve done my best to brief the mayor, but she wants to meet with you all. Now.”

.

Mayor Hisakawa is a small woman with steel-colored hair and very politely folded hands. The deputy mayor hurries along behind her as Yukiko shows everybody into one of the Inn’s empty meeting rooms.

There’s a stool in one corner for Dojima, which is awkward, with everybody else on their knees, but his leg’s not going to be kneeling any time soon. It’s a good position to observe from.

The main questions on everybody’s mind seem to be as follows:

_Is it actually over?_

“We cannot assure that,” says Shirogane. “The fog has lifted, but communications have yet to be restored, and nobody has yet made it out of Inaba. We don’t even know if this was an isolated incident.”

“Kanzeon can’t sense anything past the edges of the city,” Kujikawa reports. It’s easy to catalog all the ways she looks exhausted, all the way down to her drooping hair. “I’m sorry, we’ve tried–”

“We know, Kujikawa-san,” the mayor interrupts. “And if I haven’t made it clear enough already, from the bottom of my heart and every heart in this town–thank you.”

_How far do these powers extend?_

A lot of shifty, exchanged glances. “We’ve never really tried to use them outside of battle before." Satonaka says it like an admission. "And before this week, we’ve never tried to battle anything outside the TV.”

“The TV." The mayor’s voice is crisp and precise enough that every teenager at the table tries to conceal a wince, some more successfully than others. Of course–it sounds like idiotic, childish fantasy. It sounds like it. It isn’t.

"We checked the TV world four times, even after the power went off,” Teddie volunteers. “It’s still bear-y nice there. I don’t think the fog came from there at all.”

Dojima’s just glad they got the kid to take off the bear suit before the meeting started.

_How long can we hold out?_

“Indefinitely,” Hanamura says, with an obvious bravado. “If we can get food and supplies. There’s enough space to house everybody at Junes, but with all the electricity off it’s going to take about two days for the refrigerated section to go bad, and another week before we just run out of food.”

“The Amagi Inn has enough supplies to last about that long,” Amagi agrees. “Two weeks, with rationing.”

“Well, that gives us a deadline, then, doesn’t it?” says Hisakawa-san.

_Where did it come from?_

“How’re we supposed to know?” Tatsumi, for crying out loud… “I mean, begging your pardon, Mayor-san, ma'am. We’re just doing the best we can here, same as you.”

“Kanji, you don’t need to–” Amagi tries to soothe softly, but Tatsumi shakes his head.

“No,” he says. “They’re asking us all these questions thinking maybe we had something to do with it, because we’re the ones with the weird powers that just saved all their asses. Well, we didn’t. We’re just as in the dark about this as all of you and we’re trying, damnit.”

He also doesn’t look like he’s slept in three days. Tatsumi’s a sixteen-year-old kid. Sometimes it’s too easy to forget that.

_Are you summoning actual gods?_

Everybody at the table startles, Dojima included. The mayor resettles her hands and leans forward.

“You must understand,” she says. “People are frightened. When powerful beings with the names of gods come at the call of teenagers and spout fire and ice or heal the nearly dead, they do not know what to think. Some would worship your…personas, is that it? Some would worship you. Some would see the power removed from you at all costs.”

“And what would you see, Madame Mayor?” Shirogane asks, and they all wait for the answer.

“I would see this town protected,” says Hisakawa-san. “But I would know who I was asking to protect it, and what the cost might be.”

“Well, they’re not gods,” says Hanamura. “They’re us.”

“Our Personas are…ourselves,” Amagi tries to explain, about as comprehensibly as anyone’s managed to explain anything to Dojima so far. “Souji once called them…the mask necessary to face life’s trials.”

“In psychological terms, a persona is a part of the psyche controlled by the ego,” Shirogane explains. “Ours take the form of deities because those forms are part of the collective unconsciousness, and something within ourselves happens to match whatever the collective unconsciousness believes those deities to be.”

“I…see,” says Hisakawa-san, very much like she does not particularly see at all.

“I’ve only ever met one real god,” Teddie says cheerfully.

“…..oh?” Hisakawa-san asks. The teenagers all exchange looks.

Oh, this can’t be good.

_You KILLED a GOD?_

“We probably didn’t really actually kill her!” Satonaka offers, like that helps. “I mean…gods…and anyway, she was trying to destroy the world first!”

“Senpai was the one to do that part, anyway,” says Tatsumi, and of course he was. Damnit, Souji–what the hell were you, and where are you now that your family needs you? “We were pretty much all dead already.”

“Metaphorically?” Hisakawa-san inquires. Another exchanged look. Dojima is coming to dread those.

“No, and I still hate you all for it,” Kujikawa declares. “But I don’t think that was Senpai’s persona, I think that was the actual Izanagi. Senpai didn’t even really give him orders, he just…appeared.”

“Oh,” says Hisakawa-san. “I see.”

_So…what’s next?_

“Well,” says Hisakawa-san. “I think that will be all for now. Please do remain here for the rest of the day if you can, unless you receive notice of another monster incursion.”

The deputy mayor slides the door firmly closed behind them on their way out. Another shared look, but most of the kids look over Dojima’s way, too, worried, hesitant.

“That could have gone worse,” he says.

.

****

They end up stuck at the inn for six hours. Kanji finds a spare square of floor and takes a nap. His mom is in the kitchen somewhere, helping. That’s all he needs to know.

Teddie finds him just as evening is starting to set in and wakes him up by jumping on his back. Kanji meets him reflexively with a fist, and then, as he blinks and shakes himself awake, regrets it–not that Teddie doesn’t deserve the bruise that’ll be growing on his jaw, but they don’t any of them need to be in worse condition than they already are.

“Come on,” Teddie urges. “Nanako’s dad has something to say to us all!”

They’re not back in the meeting room this time, just a small sitting area in the lobby, full of actual chairs so Dojima can rest his damn leg. Kanji still can’t believe someone hasn’t crept up behind him and fixed it already, whether he wants them to or not. Nanako’s missing again, but with half the damn town in this Inn, she’s probably got somebody looking after her.

“What do you kids need, in order to keep protecting the town until this lets up?” Dojima asks, no bothering with an introduction.

“We’d need–” Naoto starts, but Yosuke-senpai cuts her off.

“Souji,” he says. And yeah. Ain’t that the truth.

Dojima sighs. “I’m sure he’s fine,” he says, “but he’s not here. We are.”

“What did the mayor say after the meeting?” Naoto asks.

“She wants to commission the Inaba Special Defense Squad,” Dojima says. “The seven of you would form an on-call tactical team. You’d have to follow orders, but you’d have the full backing of Inaba’s government.” _What’s left of it_ , he doesn’t say, but yeah, they all hear it.

“Whose orders?” Naoto asks.

“Mine,” Dojima says. “The mayor thinks, since I’m familiar with you, I’d be best suited to organize and use your…talents.”

It’s like somebody just pulled a weight off of every one of them there. Take orders from Dojima-san? Sure, he’s a cop, but he’s a cop who Naoto respects, who Souji-senpai would do just about anything for. He’s listened, sometimes, when Kanji had things to say.

“I know I’m not Souji–” he starts.

“But you’re the closest thing we have right now, right?” Yosuke-senpai asks.

“Yosuke’s right,” Chie-senpai nods firmly. “We need a leader. We’re not…great at organizing ourselves.”

“It’s not going to be what you’re used to,” Dojima warns. “It’ll be hard work. There’ll be rules. The mayor was saying something about dorms or a barracks. You’ll all be living and working under my command until all of this is over.”

There’s a pause for a moment, and then Rise springs up from her chair and barrels right into Dojima’s side, luckily aiming for his good leg, to wrap her arms around him. “We promise we’ll be good!” She’s muffled in his coat.

He looks startled, but hey, he’s been raising Nanako, he’s got to be at least a little used to surprise hugs, right? Dojima pats Rise carefully on the back and looks around at the rest of them. "So that’s a yes?“

"Yes,” agrees Yosuke-senpai.

“Definitely a yes." Chie-senpai’s smiling, first time Kanji’s seen that in days.

"And me as well,” Yukiko-senpai agrees.

“Teddie is in!" Kanji surreptitiously hooks his foot around Teddie’s ankle before Teddie can try to turn the hug into a bear pile.

"I’m up for it if everybody else is,” says Kanji, which just leaves–

“Dojima-san,” Naoto says, and she stands up to bow, formally low. “It would be an honor.”

.

****

“I know that these are tight and uncomfortable quarters,” Mayor Hisakawa says, standing on a small rise in front of the Amagi Inn. Every refugee who can stand is gathered out in front of her, more than six hundred of them, a sea of people. Damn right it’s cramped quarters. The Investigation Team–no, the Inaba Special Defense Squad, now, the ISDS–they all crowded in together in one room last night, with sheets draped over a couple of old torn folding screens that Yukiko fished out of storage, Teddie and Kanji and Yosuke on one side with Dojima, all the girls on the other, squished together with six futons between the nine of them. It’s so many people–but these, and the people at the school, and the people at Junes, this is all that’s left.

“I would ask you to remain here for a few days longer,” says the mayor. “We’re entering into a new and uncertain period in our town’s journey. We must work together to ensure all of our survival. Many buildings and homes were destroyed in the events of the past few days, and more danger may be at hand.”

She says, “We’ll be taking volunteers to make up survey teams to go out into town and evaluate what’s there, to salvage what we can and see what may be left of our homes. It is my hope that by the end of the week, those of you that can return to your own lives will be able to do so safely.”

“Are we supposed to be on those survey teams?” Chie asks under her breath, standing quietly at the back of the crowd with the rest of the team. The squad.

“You’ll have a role,” Dojima answers, and Chie jumps. A man who’s still walking with a cane shouldn’t move so quietly. “The mayor’s still talking.”

This whole _adult supervision_ thing is _weird_.

.

****

It’s weird. It’s so weird. There’s a grown-up who knows what they’re up to–and he’s _on their side_.

“Oh, Shirogane,” Dojima says, almost in passing, except that Naoto knows perfectly well that Dojima very much means a number of things he appears to do ‘only in passing’. “Where’d you two get the motorbike, anyway?”

Naoto can feel herself blushing, but she keeps her chin up and her neck straight. “I hotwired it,” she says. "Fast travel was essential. It would as likely have been damaged if we’d left it where we found it, in any case.“

Dojima just snorts. "Figures,” he says. "So you know how to ride, and we saw Tatsumi…?“ There’s just a hint of question in his tone, and a pause meant for confirmation, so Naoto nods.

"He can control one,” she confirms. “…after a fashion.” They are being honest, after all.

“Hanamura’s got his own, though god only knows who thought it was a good idea to give that kid a license." Dojima shakes his head. "How many of the others?”

“…the others?”

“You’re right,” Dojima says. “Speed’s going to be important. Half the roads in town are torn up, and if you think I’d give any of you a car you’re crazy. We should be able to get scooters or motorcycles from somewhere, though, at least as long as there’s fuel to make them run. What I want to know is, can the others drive them?”

It’s an utterly unexpected showing of support. Equipment? That they don’t have to track down, fight for, or purchase themselves?

“I’m sure they’ll be able to learn quickly,” Naoto says, when she gathers the words. “I’ll do my best to help instruct them.”

“See that you do, Shirogane,” Dojima says, already moving on to his next thing, leaving her baffled behind him.

.

Hell, even getting some sleep’d been easier. They don’t have a lot of supplies around the Inn, with everything stretched thin, so everybody’s sharing. The girls had three futons to share, over on their side–well, Nanako-chan barely counts, and the other four are all pretty small and girls don’t mind cuddling. They had three over on the guys’ side, too.

Dojima-san got his own futon. 'Specially with that broken leg. Kanji’s glad Yosuke-senpai didn’t seem interested in making a fuss over it even from the beginning, and even Teddie seemed to get it. The only adult, and injured, too? He got his own. Which meant Kanji, Teddie, and Yosuke were just going to have to share the other two.

Kanji shouldn’t’ve even been tired, after napping half the day, but it’d been a long three days and he was still groggy. He just remembered the camping trip too damn well. It’d been more than a year ago, and he and Yosuke mostly got along these days–but still.

“Slumber party!” Teddie cried, throwing himself directly across the middle of the futons. The whole room was pretty dark, just candlelight since the electricity was all busted, but Kanji still caught Yosuke eyeing the futons, then looking at him–and just as Yosuke was about to open his mouth to say something, Dojima-san beat him to it.

“I’m sorry it’s not more,” Dojima-san said, sounding so tired that Yosuke’s mouth snapped instantly shut. “I can see about getting another futon tomorrow, but for now–”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Yosuke said. “This’ll be great.”

“Yeah, this is awesome, I love slumber parties,” Kanji agreed as quickly as possible. A second later he caught Yosuke’s wince and Teddie’s big, beaming smile, and wanted to kick himself for being too enthusiastic. Agh. Truth was, Kanji’d passed out facedown on a floor earlier today, and he was close to tired enough to do the same thing again, just so long as nobody made a big deal out of it.

“Let’s just…all go to sleep,” Yosuke said. Teddie’d already claimed the middle, which was probably for the best, so Kanji laid down gingerly on his side of the futons, one leg and his right shoulder shoved over onto the ground. Then Dojima-san blew out the candles. "Ow, Teddie, move over, you’re hogging the–“ A shove from Yosuke’s side pushed Teddie right into Kanji, shoving him even farther over the edge.

"Hey, watch it, bear,” Kanji growled, and pushed back.

“Boys,” Dojima-san said. “Everything okay?” Kanji froze. On Teddie’s other side, he’s pretty sure Yosuke did the same.

“Nope, no problems over here.”

“Yeah, just getting settled in,” Yosuke agreed.

“I’m like the snug and cozy filling of a Teddie sandwich!” Teddie declared.

Yosuke didn’t say anything. Nothing at all about Teddie sandwiches or any kind of shit that might not be appropriate. Somehow, he kept his damn mouth completely shut.

And maybe Kanji does spend his whole week sleeping half on a futon squished up against a bear that likes to cuddle in his sleep, and half on the floor–but it goes a lot better than he was expecting.

.

“Nobody goes out alone,” Dojima-san says. “Not on any kind of mission. And unless it’s a real emergency, I don’t want to see anyone going out into the field without at least one healer on their team. How well can you work in groups of three?”

Everyone in the room relaxes as soon as he says it. He doesn’t sound very much like Souji, but he already knows the most important rule, and Rise doesn’t think anybody had to tell him first.

“We can’t fight very well in a team bigger than four,” Chie offers. “We used to go out in teams of four, with…with Souji in charge, and then he’d pick who else.”

“Anybody who didn’t go would stay back with Rise and guard the entrance,” Yukiko offers quickly. She’s probably trying to take everybody’s minds off of Souji as fast as possible.

If Rise has to think about Souji then she’s going to start thinking about Tokyo, and other people who might have been in Tokyo, and whether or not Tokyo’s even still there. She’d rather think about waiting by entrances. Even that awful, miserable bedroom by the doorway to Magatsu Inaba where Naoto taught Chie and Teddie sixteen different ways to cheat at cards while Rise stood under Kanzeon’s visor and shouted warning after warning after warning. 

“Well, we’ll want to do something like that this week,” Dojima-san says. “The mayor wants at least two recovery teams working sunup to sundown until we’ve sorted through town, so we’ll have you out there in shifts. Four at a time, just like like you’re used to.”

Dojima’s good at strategy. He’ll be good for them. Hopefully he’ll keep the teams balanced, so Rise doesn’t have to watch her friends getting pummeled at one weakness or another without any chance to fix it.

“We’ll rotate,” he continues. “Anybody starts feeling tired, hungry, anything, we’ll switch out for the next fighter. Trade half the team three hours in, so after six hours in the field everybody has a chance to switch out whether you need it or not. And if Kujikawa starts getting tired–” he nods at Rise, suddenly, out of nowhere– “we all call it in for the day.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about me!" Rise’s not the one getting burned and shot at and clawed. She puts on her sunniest smile. "I can keep up just as long as you need me.”

“You’re our only way of communicating in the field,” Dojima-san says. “And you may not be used to hearing it, but you’re all just kids. I’d like to see you all stay as safe and healthy as possible, given what you’re about to take on.”

She shouldn’t be sniffling. It’s silly, he’s just taking care of his investment, that’s all. It’s one thing to hug him and act like they’re all family, but this is business.

Anyway, she can’t flirt with Dojima-san like she would with Souji. She wouldn’t even if she could. She shouldn’t cling just because she wants…

“Papa Dojima, you’re the best!” Teddie bursts in, and the name is enough of a surprise to draw everybody’s eyes and make Dojima gape. Nobody’s looking at Rise at all any more. It gives her a minute to breathe, and brush at her eyes, and brighten up that sunny smile just a few more notches.

Yukiko’s the only one who notices, Rise thinks, hopes, and Yukiko won’t say anything. She just meets Rise’s eyes and smiles encouragingly, and that’s enough. Nakama. It’s a different kind of family, that’s all. They’ll be okay.

.

****

Which brings us back to Yukiko and Yosuke, really. The Amagi Princess and the Junes Prince, worrying about holding out not in terms of military force but in terms of logistics and supplies.

“I don’t know how I’m going to tell my dad I’m moving out to be part of some special on-call military squad while we’ve still got almost a thousand people living in the store,” Yosuke sighs. Dojima and the mayor had both been pretty adamant about that–‘on call’ means 24/7. (If there are still 24 hours in a day. The clocks have all been ticking strangely and coming around to the weirdest times for sunrise and sunset all week, different every day, but nobody can worry about that yet. They’re still trying to clear out monsters.)

“You’re not,” Dojima says. “I am.”

“Um,” Yosuke says. What’s procedure here? His dad’s not going to like it coming from Dojima any more than he’d like it from Yosuke himself. “No, that’s okay, I can handle it. I’m just complaining,” he adds with a self-deprecating smile. Dojima nods.

“Hanamura, how old are you?” he asks.

“Eighteen,” Yosuke says. More than old enough to have his act together with his parents, really.

“And how old am I?” Dojima asks.

“Um,” Yosuke says again. “Is this a trick question?”

Dojima rolls his eyes. “How about, just for once, you kids leave the adults part of things to the actual adults?” he asks. “You’re being requisitioned as an important resource for the survival of this town. I think I can make him understand how that works.”

Yosuke tries not to gape, he really does. Dojima stomps off, his crutch clicking against the ground with every step–one of these days Yosuke is just going to sneak up behind him and fix it, although it’s hard to call Susano-o without a lot of noise and fanfare and also space–and Chie elbows Yosuke in the ribs. He winces and shoves at her back.

“He got you too, huh?” Chie asks. “Isn’t it weird?”

“Huh?” Yosuke asks. “No, I’m just thinking about that time I got grounded for a week during summer break because I missed two shifts in a row looking for stupid Kubo. Would’ve been nice to have Dojima-san on our side back then.”

.

Yosuke’s parents _don’t_ understand, at least as far as Yukiko can tell, but she has other things to worry about–like her own parents. Her mother is up and out of bed, but she’s still weak, and her father’s never managed the daily runnings of the Inn like this. Somebody has to make sure that, even with four times the usual number of guests and no more supplies for the forseeable future, everything still keeps going.

“Okay, first teams,” Dojima says. “Hanamura, Satonaka, Amagi, Tatsumi, you’re up. We’ve got three different salvage teams working in residential districts, one north of the river, the other two south. Stay together, circle back and forth between them. For now we’ve only got one scooter and one motorcycle, so you’re riding double. Don’t crash them.”

Yukiko doesn’t say anything in front of the others, but when the group breaks up a minute later to fetch weapons and armor, she stops Dojima by the door. Surely he knows she’s needed here?

“Dojima-san,” Yukiko says quickly. “I’m sorry, I’m happy to go, but wouldn’t I be of more use staying here to manage the Inn?”

Not that she wants to be left behind, but…

Souji almost always chose Yukiko to go with the team. Her magic has always been strong, and it took Teddie longer to learn nearly every healing spell. Everybody fought, of course, but Yukiko spent so little time being the one staying back. She always hated it, waiting and worrying while Rise babbled out her constant string of warnings and encouragements to thin air. Even if the team doesn’t run into any trouble, Yukiko would rather be with them making sure.

“They’re going to have to get used to doing without you sooner or later,” Dojima says. “And I want to see more of how these elemental powers work together in action.”

“Doing without me?” Yukiko echoes. He can’t be trying to pull her away from the Inn, not now.

“It’s not that important for today,” Dojima says. “I could switch you and Satonaka for Teddie and Shirogane with no problem. I will, later this afternoon. But what about next time we’re faced with a crisis or an emergency, and I need all seven of you with no delay?”

“Then I’ll be there, of course,” Yukiko says. She’d manage. She always has before, right?

“An emergency like that is when this Inn is going to need its manager most,” says Dojima. “What’re they going to do if they’re used to that person being you?”

Yukiko flushes, mostly in shame, partially in anger. She should be able to do both. Dojima shouldn’t be talking as though he needs her to choose. “I can’t abandon them,” she says stiffly.

“And I’m not asking you to,” Dojima says. “Trust me. I know how it feels to be needed in two different places at once.”

He–oh. He does, doesn’t he? Nanako’s spent the past two nights cuddled up tight between Yukiko and Rise, safe and warm, but how many nights has she gone to bed alone?

“There’s nobody else who can do what you do,” Dojima says. “I have seven of you, six with combat powers. Nobody else who can do the things you can with fire. One other person who can heal anything like as well as you can. Sometimes the best way to serve your family is to go out and be somewhere else, protecting them.”

He’s right. He’s right, and Yukiko wants it, wants to be out there with her friends and teammates instead of sitting behind just hoping they’ll come back to her, but…

“Kasai,” Yukiko says, so quietly she almost doesn’t even hear herself.

“Hmm?” Dojima tilts his head. Yukiko straightens up. She can do this.

“Kasai-san,” she repeats. “If my mother is in no condition to run the Inn, Kasai-san could do it. In my absence.”

Dojima nods. “You should talk to her,” he says. “This afternoon. Right now you’ve got two minutes to get your gear and meet up at the front of the Inn.”

With all the crowds in the corridors, Yukiko will barely make it to their room and back in time, and that’s if she doesn’t let herself get stopped in the halls by ten different people who all need something. “Yes sir!” she agrees, snapping to attention. “I won’t be late!”

.

****

They’re going to have to figure out if they can even keep those bikes gassed up, Dojima thinks, watching the four teenagers roar off down the road in advance of the Amagi Inn’s scouting party. Inaba’s not big, but it’s just not practical to expect their main defense squad to have to cross the whole town on foot. Pedal bikes aren’t too much better, if they’ll be exhausted by the time they get to a fight. What else? Horses? Good luck finding any of those around here. Heh, Inaba doesn’t even have cows.

A small hand tugs at his sleeve. “They’re going to be okay, Daddy." Nanako slips her hand into his.

"Of course they are,” Dojima promises, squeezing back. “Are you worried?”

“No,” Nanako says, as determined as ever. “I told you, they’re going to be just fine. Chie-neechan promised to bring back my stuffed platypus when they get to our house.”

Satonaka shouldn’t be making promises like that, or at all, but hell, Dojima knows how hard it is to be faced with Nanako’s faith and hopes. “You know it won’t be today,” Dojima warns. Their neighborhood is on the schedule for tomorrow, but who knows how long it’ll take the crews to clear through the residential areas. Who knows if there’s even anything left. Kujikawa’s Persona apparently can’t track things like whether walls are still standing without somebody on the scene first. “And if your platypus isn’t still there–”

“I know,” Nanako interrupts. “I know. But she promised she’d try.”

There’s not much he can say to that force of belief. Dojima can’t pick her up very well right now, and he won’t be kneeling any time soon, but he squeezes her hand a little more. “Then she’ll try,” he says.

“Daddy,” Nanako says, and then she hesitates. It’s never a good sign when Nanako gets shy about saying something.

“What is it, Nanako?” Dojima asks, gentle and already worried he knows where this is going.

“Is Big Bro okay?” Nanako asks.

He’s been trying not to ask that question for four days. The other kids on the team…mostly they’re trying not to mention Souji, if they can help it, but Dojima can hear his name in the gaps. It’s one thing to figure out how to do their best at fighting monsters without him. It’s another thing to think about him, their family, out god-knows-where by himself.

“He’s strong,” Dojima says, a reminder to both of them. “He’s smart and he’s powerful.”

“He saved me,” Nanako agrees. “But…he had help.”

“Nanako." Better to not think about that. Better to shut the worry down before it can eat either of them alive. "Do you believe in your brother?”

“Of course!" She beams up at him, and Dojima smiles his most reassuring smile back.

"Then trust him,” Dojima says. “And worry a little more about what’s in front of us here. Didn’t Amagi say you had a job to do?” Even the children are working in the Inn. It has less to do with needing the help and more with keeping everybody feeling helpful and busy, but Dojima’s grateful for it now. Nanako snaps to attention and nods, pigtails bobbing up and down with her enthusiasm. Kujikawa must be doing her hair. Dojima doesn’t remember it quite so…bouncy.

“Mmm-hmm!” she agrees. “We’re going to do laundry in the hot spring!”

It’s definitely…a novel workaround, but then, they’ve been getting all their drinking, cooking, and wash water right out of the hot springs for days. At least Junes presumably has enough of a stock of bottled water to last them. Dojima doesn’t know what they’re doing over at the high school. All the more reason to get people out of there as fast as possible.

“Go on, then,” Dojima ushers her off. Then he readjusts his crutch and limps outside to find Kujikawa.

Kanzeon is a little too tall to fit comfortably inside, so they’ve set Kujikawa up in front of the inn with a stool and a small folding card table. She’s got the visor over her eyes, but she’s quiet for the moment. Time for Dojima to get to work himself.

“Kujikawa,” he says, and she startles, Kanzeon flickering for a moment behind her. “No, keep on the visor. I know you’ve got a map in there. I was hoping you could help me follow along on a map here.”

He can’t get out into the field to observe directly until this leg heals–and if they get through another couple of days without any big catastrophes, he will give in and just let one of the kids fix it for him, conservation of power or not. He can’t do much of anything.

He can do this. He can plan. "Of course,“ Rise says. "Is there a second stool for you?”

“I’m fine,” Dojima brushes her off. “Where are they now?”

“Naoto-kun, Teddie!” Rise ignores his question entirely, even though the others are nowhere to be seen. “Can you bring Dojima-san a stool to sit on? Oh, and a glass of water?”

“Okay, Kujikawa,” Dojima sighs, and waits patiently for Teddie to bound up with enthusiasm and a stool, and Shirogane, who he thought better of than all this fussing, to come trailing behind with not just the requested cup of water but also a full pot of tea.

“It was already brewing, Dojima-san,” Shirogane says innocently, and what’s he going to do, accuse her of lying? He sinks down on the stool. Kujikawa’s hand is already tracing patterns over the map on the table, drawing light pencil lines over roads and paths.

“It’s different," Kujikawa frowns. "Some of the roads aren’t in the same place any more. Yosuke-senpai’s confused.”

“Just do your best,” Dojima requests. It’s all they can do.


	3. Chapter 3

They don’t get everybody out of the Inn by the end of the week.

The side of town north of the Samegawa was pulverized. That’s the shopping district and a lot of residential areas, mostly, and people’s homes just aren’t left to go back to. The south is better off, but Rise was right–the map’s changed. Roads don’t lead where they used to any more, and it’s not just that walls fell down. Actual paved roads are shifted into different directions now, like somebody’s dungeon reshuffled itself completely. Keeping track is difficult at best.

A lot of people went home anyway. A lot of people are staying with their neighbors. There may be a gaping hole in the roof, but at least it’s their roof, and they’re not crammed ten to a room in the Amagi Inn any more.

The Inn’s down to about four or five people a room, which is a great improvement. They took in most of the refugees from the high school, which also seems to be missing all of its roofs–but the walls are still standing, and hey, if you stay on the first floor you don’t even get rained on. It’s a good staging area for more explorations into town, a lot closer than the Inn. And, of course, they’ll need it for school.

“Wait, we’re still going to _school_?" Yosuke’s the one who asks it, because _what the fuck_ , but they’re all gaping. Dojima nods.

"There’s a building, there’s teachers, and there’s plenty of kids who need to be kept out of trouble,” he says. “School’s reopening next week. Looks like it’s going to be half days for a while, and then in the afternoon everybody will help out with rebuilding the town. That’s when you’ll all report to me.” He’s standing on two feet now, splint gone and cane put aside, but Yosuke’s noticed how he’s still tilting just slightly to the left. It was almost a week with a poorly-treated broken leg. Just like none of their healing spells have ever fixed the scar on Kanji’s face, something in that leg just won’t ever be quite right.

In the end, they had to sneak Dojima-san into the group for one of Yukiko’s Mediarahans to get him healed. They spent half an hour arguing and planning it out, all seven of them, and he and Teddie left the party unhealed all the way back to the Inn on purpose. Luckily they weren’t too badly off that day. There haven’t been many monsters, and all of them on the north side of the river, in the wreckage and rubble. The south should be safe.

The north side…it looks like Magatsu Inaba. It’s familiar, at least, even in the wreckage. Yosuke doesn’t know if that makes it worse or not.

.

On Saturday there’s a shonanoka for the whole town.

It looks like a good two-thirds of the town survived, maybe even more, but that’s still hundreds of dead, hundreds they haven’t been able to mourn properly in the first place. They’ve been pulling bodies out of the wreckage for days. 

There’s no way to set up a proper wake, with prayer beads and portraits, not for so many. There’s no dry ice to keep the bodies from bloating and rotting in the heat. It’s not as though there’s any crematorium left standing. That’s been one of Yukiko’s jobs. It has to be. Unlike Kasai running the Inn or Teddie and Yosuke healing, there’s nobody else left with fire magic.

On the first day she went alone, just her and the relatives of whichever bodies they’d managed to identify that day, all of them talking quietly amongst themselves or crying, sharing grief that it wasn’t Yukiko’s business to intrude upon. She only spoke one quiet word, and then Amaterasu was rising splendid out of her like a phoenix in the twilight. A few moments later the plume of smoke billowed lazy up into the sky. She came back an hour later and took herself directly to the hot springs to bathe away the smell, then came back to the room somber and silent.

“You don’t have to–” Chie tried, and Yukiko ducked her head away.

“Somebody has to,” she said. “Please, Chie, let’s not fight. I’m tired.”

****

_I only meant you don’t have to do it alone_ , Chie almost said, but Yukiko wouldn’t look at her and Nanako tumbled back into the room, then, grinning and clutching her stuffed platypus like a prize, so Chie didn’t say anything that night. The next evening she showed up on the path up to the ridge anyway.

“I don’t have anything black to wear…” she said, twisting her hands together, suddenly worried it had all been a terrible idea, but Yukiko smiled at her anyway.

“I don’t think anybody does,” she said. There was a different crowd of strangers with the same quiet mourning, the deeper grief that Yukiko had no right to interfere with, not with her mother and father and so many friends still alive–  


Then Chie took her hand and held it, tight, and Yukiko only let it go for the fifteen seconds she needed to slash her fan and summon Amaterasu. She squeezed it for the rest of the night.

The next day the others were there, all five of them, in makeshift mourning haphazardly put together from Yukiko’s old clothes and suits borrowed from her father. And the next, and the next.

Saturday marks seven days since the fog cleared. Shonanoka, the seven-days-after-death ceremony. They can’t have howevermany hundreds of funerals, but they can gather the town on the Samegawa riverbank and mourn together.

Two thousand people pack the riverbanks. Somebody thought to scrounge a battery-powered microphone and mini amplifier from the electronics department of Junes, and there’s somebody up on the hill leading the sutras and prayers. The man isn’t a Buddhist monk, Yukiko doesn’t think, but it’s not as though the mayor can just call the temple in Okina City to send one over now. He’s old and solemn and knows the prayers.

The whole town follows him together, raising up all their private grief into one enormous shared mass of mourning. Yukiko stands between her mother and father, knowing that Chie and the others are somewhere else in the crowd with their loved ones, knowing she’s lucky, refusing to think about any of the ways she’s not. She makes herself remember the bus driver, and the woman who grew tomatoes on the outskirts of town, and all the bodies she’s seen to this week, and prays.  


.  


Everything they do these days has to be at least a little bit practical, even grief. After the rituals are through, the crowd takes a break to walk around and breathe and snack on whole bushels full of onigiri brought from the Inn, before the mayor climbs up to the rise and takes over the speaker setup for herself. The Inaba Special Defense Squad all ends up clustered together, Dojima and Nanako folded in along with them. There’s more than one kind of family that matters.  


“It is important,” the mayor says, “to clear up a common misconception.” Chie’s ended up next to Yukiko again, and squeezes her hand a little tighter, just because she can. They’ve been holding on a lot like this, this week. "I have heard many people in this town say that they believe the world has ended. This is not so!”

The murmur springs up through the crowd almost instantly. “There’s a swirling void of darkness two miles south of town, you old bat,” Kanji mutters, luckily quietly enough that nobody but them can hear him. “What else do you call it?” The mayor waits for one moment, two, then raises her voice and carries on.

“Look around you,” she says. “We are all standing here. Look up in the sky, the sun has still risen. There is earth beneath our feet. People have died, and we mourn them, but we are not dead. The world has changed. The world that we knew is perhaps lost to us forever. We will need to change with it, and so we will, because we still stand. Our universe has not collapsed in on itself. We breathe and move and hope, and therefore I know that this is not the end of the world. It is only the beginning of a new age, and we will meet it together.”

Silence, so quiet that the breeze rustling through the tree leaves suddenly sounds disrespectfully loud–and then, over to the left, sitting up on Kanji’s shoulders, Nanako starts to clap. A moment of startlement later, and Dojima joins her–loud, deliberate, the kind of applause that reminds Chie to pull her hand away from Yukiko’s and bring her own hands together, and everybody else, too, because suddenly the entire crowd is clapping, thousands of them all together–

and for the very first time since she looked out her window and saw the fog, Chie realizes that actually, they’re all going to be okay.

.

(This is a farming town. They have every reason to believe they’re going to manage, at least in terms of food, eventually. Inaba is surrounded by farms and fields–though when the survey team headed too far east, they hit high mountains where there used to be plains, and heading west they got stopped by dense, near-impenetrable lowland tropical forest where there’s supposed to be mountains. South led right to jagged cliffs overlooking a black, swirling void, carved like a gouge into the earth. North is promising. North might be okay.

But. ****They have farms and fields and some of them are still there, though it was coming on to December and anything that might have been growing out on those farms this summer is probably bundled up and harvested now. There are stockpiles of raw rice in silos that haven’t sold yet. It’s a start. And rice isn’t like corn or wheat, it doesn’t grow hybrid and sterile and have to be re-bought every spring. They’ll have seed for next year.

Yes, the buildings in the shopping district are flattened–well, fine. Half of them were closed anyway, and the other half was on the brink–Aiya did good business, and Tatsumi Textiles was getting by, one stuffed animal at a time, but the Konishis were just hoping to keep the store going long enough for Naoki to finish high school and disappear from this town like everyone else. Before the world ended, Inaba had a population that maxed out a little under 4,000 people. At least 70% of those were under eighteen or over forty. Adults under 30, adults under 25, that was a tiny shrinking demographic dropping by the day even before the world came to an end.

It’ll be a long time before somebody says it, over a year, before they understand enough just what did happen during those three days–probably Naoki, whose grasp of symbolism and irony lets him spot things like that. The shopping district flattened to the ground, and Junes standing tall, sheltering all comers–not a sign or a symbol. A result.

Inaba already knew apocalypses, in its own way. The death of the shopping district and the rise of Junes, the loss of their youth, the end of an era stretching back centuries through time. Of course that’s how its little world ends.)

.

****

There’s a feast at the Inn that night. There’s only a few hundred people left, but the cooks pull out every luxury item and bit of food that might be on the edge of turning, despite the chunks of ice that Chie and Teddie have been tossing into the walk-in refrigerator all week. Somebody evacuated with their guitar, and somebody else found two working shamisen somewhere in a storage room, and a trio of upturned buckets make for serviceable makeshift drums, and suddenly, it’s a party.

Kasai comes around with a tray piled high with beer they’d been keeping locked away all week, and finds them all sitting on the grass with Dojima and watching Nanako run around with a few of the other local kids, not talking about very much at all. “Dojima-san,” she says, managing a low bow without shifting a single can on her tray. "Can I offer any of you a drink? Anything you like from our cellars,“ she says, and her glance around makes it clear that _you_ is very much plural here. The kids all look at each other.

"We’re underage,” Chie points out when Yukiko doesn’t say anything first, looking cautiously between Kasai and Dojima and all the rest of them. “Um…”

“Amagi-san’s orders,” Kasai explains. “He wasn’t sure if it mattered any more, but, as a thank-you for all you’ve done…”

“Hell,” Dojima says. “Did it matter before?" All of the sudden, everybody’s laps are fascinating.

It wasn’t like they drank a lot or anything. There were just a few times this past summer vacation, when they’d pooled their money and Kanji had talked Konishi Naoki into selling them a couple of bottles of rice wine, which was easier to hide than beer. Yukiko had fallen into fits of giggles and Kanji ended up as red as a strawberry, and Souji had just–

"Alright, better question,” Dojima says, when it becomes obvious that nobody’s about to discuss their underage drinking experiments with a cop, even one that apparently knows perfectly well what they were up to over break. “Can any of you even hold your alcohol? 

"Of course we can!” says Rise, never mind that they all remember the King’s Game perfectly well. She’s actually less loopy when the booze is real, come to think of it.

“We can hold it in both hands!” Teddie chimes in. Yosuke’s foot jerks out, totally by accident, and kicks him in the thigh. 

“Look, it’s fine,” Chie says, and Yosuke nods, even though a beer sounds really nice after this week.

“We don’t have to,” he says. “Hey, it’s still a party, right?”

“If something should happen…” Yukiko murmurs. It might be the most words she’s said in a row since the memorial service was over.

“You should let the others enjoy themselves,” Naoto cuts in unexpectedly. “I’d rather abstain in any case, but it’s been a difficult week for everybody. If anything comes up, Yamato-Takeru and I can manage it.”

Way to make them all feel like heels–but then, Naoto is always kinda like that about alcohol. A couple of small sips of rice wine to fit in and then nothing for the rest of the night. It’s not that surprising.

“Um, yeah, what she said,” Kanji sputters out hurriedly, biiiig shock there. “We’ll be fine. We can handle it.”

“Fine,” Dojima sighs. “God knows we’re asking you to do the jobs of adults. I want a two beer limit each, and don’t make me regret it." His pointed glare is a definite promise of just how much they will all regret it even more.

"We’ll be bear-y responsible,” Teddie promises. Dojima looks like he might regret his decision already, but Kasai’s handing out cans of beer and it’s too late to back out now.

.

****

It’s warm out. It’s almost as warm as summer, in spite of the theoretical calendar date. People are spread out on the grass, drinking and listening to the music, and some of them have started dancing over by the musicians. It’s more frantic than the summer festival, more desperate, but it’s a relief in so many ways.

Naoto can’t sit still any more. Nanako is falling asleep, right there in Dojima’s lap.

“I’ll take her up to bed,” Naoto offers. Nanako’s bigger than she was a year ago, more difficult to carry, but surely they’ll manage.

“Oh, no!" Rise jabs an energetic finger in her direction. "I know you. If you go upstairs, you’ll never come back down. You just want to escape the party.”

It’s true enough, but if tonight is supposed to be about finding a few moments to relax then why shouldn’t Naoto be able to take advantage of the first hour or two of near-solitude in a week? She’s ready to argue–and half a beer or not, it’s clear Rise’s ready to argue back–when Kanji puts a hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll go too,” he says. “Shouldn’t make the kid wake up to walk. And I’ll drag this one back down afterwards.”

“I can put Nanako to bed,” Dojima says. He’s three beers in to everybody else’s one, and if Naoto hadn’t been watching him drink she’d assume he was more sober than any of them. Some of the lines on his face are almost starting to relax. Maybe. "You kids enjoy the party.“

"It’s no trouble,” Naoto says. She stands up, and Kanji does too, stopping to scoop Nanako into his arms–and then, well, they’re already standing and holding the child, so Dojima might as well let them go, right? “We’ll be back.”

The inn is nearly deserted. It’s so warm outside. It should be December and it feels like summer, which means that more than geography has been disrupted this week. Or perhaps it is geography–none of Inaba’s surroundings are the same. If the whole town itself somehow moved south…and what will that do to crop seasons and planting patterns…

“Here we go." Kanji’s been silent the whole way up to the room, leaving her to her thoughts. "Can you get the door?”

They have two full adjoining rooms now, and enough futons for everybody to get their own, which is a relief on the girl’s side and must be a near-miracle for the boys. Naoto slides open the door of the girls’ room. There’s still no electricity, but the curtains are pulled wide and the moon is almost full. It’s easy enough to see their way.

“There you go." Kanji’s gentle tucking Nanako in, and the girl barely stirs. His hands are always so gentle, when he’s not using them to smash or crush or destroy. His hair’s going to outgrow the bleach soon, if they can’t get more supplies in.

It’s no matter. Her brain’s scattering in a thousand different directions tonight. Naoto lingers by the window. Kanji stands.

"Look, I know how much you like crowds and lots of noise,” he says. “If you wanna find someplace and camp out, I’ll go down and try to hold them off. Might wanna be somewhere other than here, though, ‘cause I can’t promise I can keep Rise from trying to drag you down in person.”

“I don’t mind company,” Naoto says, surprising herself–but maybe the last thing she wants to be is alone with herself tonight after all. “I found the access panel to the roof a few days ago. Join me?”

.

****

The party gets a little wilder as the night goes on, after Nanako goes to bed. Dojima gets drawn into conversation with a bunch of grown-ups and leaves the five of them alone, and maybe that’s the biggest mistake.

All of the other little kids are going to bed, too, and all the voices are getting louder little by little. The five of them aren’t drunk yet, but half the rest of the party is–the Amagis have been holding back the liquor so far, but they’re spreading it around tonight. The makeshift band is still playing. Somebody laughs, way too loud, down the lawn a ways, and then stops suddenly.

Rise jumps up and arches her back. “I can’t sit still any more!” she declares. “I’m going to dance. Teddie, come with me.”

“Right away, my hot honey,” Teddie agrees. It was his newest thing a month ago, calling all the girls 'honeys’ and saving 'stud’ for the boys. Gave him a lot of opportunity for bear puns. Yosuke’s not even going to get into it tonight. Teddie can dance all night if he wants to. At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if Rise ended up singing.

“Looks like Naoto and Kanji aren’t coming back." Yosuke leans back on his hands and glances around for Kasai. Maybe if he goes to a different waitress, he can get around Dojima’s two beer limit. "Big surprise there.”

He feels mean tonight, bitter and sour like the bite of the beer. It reminds him too much of…years ago, Nagoya in his first year of high school, the roof of the apartment building where Morita Osamu and Takehashi Ryoko-chan both lived. Osamu-kun’s older brother would always buy them all beer as long as they stayed out of the apartment while he had a date over, so they’d all stay up on the roof for half the night, half a dozen aimless teenagers getting drunk because there was nothing else better to do. They never had to save the world. They never had to do it twice.

Yosuke hasn’t thought about Ryoko-chan in a year. She’s probably dead.

“Hey, you should go easy on that,” Chie admonishes Yukiko, ignoring Yosuke completely. Yukiko’s already on her second, too, and judging by the rate she’s gulping, it’ll be empty soon. “How’re you feeling?”

“I want to play a game,” Yukiko declares. “We never go to finish the King’s Game in Tatsumi Port Island. We should finish.”

“Um, maybe not tonight?” Yosuke suggests pointedly. Half the town is here. Half of _their group_ isn’t.

“Okay, Yukiko, let’s take a walk." Chie stands up and offers Yukiko an arm, half hauling her up too. "A little spin around the party.”

“We’re spinning? Ooh!” Yukiko trips, almost, over her own feet, and Chie holds her carefully upright. Yosuke might hate them.

“Have fun,” he says, and waves. They’re his friends and he won’t hate them in the morning, so he smiles and if he shows his teeth, well, Yukiko’s trashed on a beer and a half. She won’t notice.

Fuck it. Everybody else is gone and all Yosuke really wants is to stop thinking. He’s finishing whatever Chie left of her beer, and then he’s going looking for whatever Dojima won’t notice him drink.

.

****

Yukiko trips another handful of times, so Chie keeps them to the outskirts of the party, Yukiko’s arm tucked safe and firm in hers. Chie’s a lot more sober, but then, she only drank about half her one beer. She saw Yosuke eyeing it, too. Well, she’s not going to sell him out to Dojima, but she’s not going to stand in the way if he gets caught, either.

It seemed more important to be there for Yukiko. Who’s giggling wildly at the sight of Teddie trying to breakdance–and okay, it is _hilarious_ , but it’s mostly just good to see Yukiko laugh again.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” Chie says. Yukiko chortles, clutching her stomach with one arm and hanging onto Chie for balance with the other. “It really is a nice night, isn’t it?”

“It is, it–" Yukiko lurches, and it’s not laughter. "Chie–”

“Are you okay?”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Yukiko says.

Yukiko steers herself, more or less, over to a small bush where she falls to her knees. Chie holds her hair back automatically. Taking care of Yukiko will always be automatic, even though Yukiko can mostly take care of herself. Yukiko mostly _doesn’t_ take care of herself. This week is just another example. She’s been trying to do more than everybody else, and something has to give.

“Shh, hey, get it all out." Chie rubs circles on Yukiko’s back while her friend retches, and tries to look anywhere else. She doesn’t need to lose her dinner too. "I knew you were drinking too fast.”

“It wasn’t that,” Yukiko says, and then cuts off for another round of gagging.

“Hey, don’t try to talk, you’re fine,” Chie says. “We’ll get you some water after this.”

“No,” Yukiko rasps out. “It wasn’t the alcohol. Chie, I _forgot_.”

“Forgot what?” Chie asks. She’d definitely argue the alcohol part–even now, Yukiko’s definitely pretty far from sober–but what else could she mean? Food poisoning? "You didn’t try to cook, did you?“

"Forgot everything,” Yukiko says. “So many people are dead, and I forgot.”

“What? Oh no, hey, are you crying?" It’s hard to see in the dark, but Yukiko’s shoulders are shaking and she doesn’t seem to be puking any more. "Yukiko, it’s fine, you’re fine.”

“I thought I could be strong,” Yukiko says. “I thought I could make it right, but I can’t. I can’t fix it.”

Chie hasn’t stopped rubbing Yukiko’s back, but Yukiko starts to sway and Chie catches her by the shoulder and helps ease her down onto her side, half in Chie’s lap and away from the puddle of vomit. “I don’t think any of us can,” Chie says. If she concentrates on Yukiko, she doesn’t have to think of her own nausea. They all spent all week pulling people out of wreckage. There were bodies left for four, five days in some places, and Chie doesn’t ever want to remember that smell again but she doesn’t think she’ll ever forget.

“How could I be happy?” Yukiko asks. “So many people died. How could I?”

“Isn’t that kind of a human thing to do, though?" Chie doesn’t want to be sad forever. It’s been such a hard week already. It _can’t_ go on forever. "Remember what the mayor said. The world’s not over. We have to keep going on.”

“But _how_?” Yukiko asks, and Chie doesn’t have an answer, just a swimming head and a warm lap, so she rubs Yukiko’s shoulder and doesn’t say anything at all.

.

****

Naoto seems pretty invested in the stars, which is cool. Kanji knows how to be quiet. All you really have to do with Naoto in a mood like this is wait her out. She’ll want to talk sooner or later.

“The constellations are all different,” she says. “That direction there should be north, and you can see clearly all the way down to the horizon, but there’s no sign of Ursa Majoris or the pole star. It’s not an appropriate configuration for stars in Japan at this time of year.” She frowns. "It’s not an appropriate configuration for stars in Japan at any time of year.“

"So what’s that mean?” Kanji’s a little less worried about stars way the hell up in the sky than he is with all the shit going wrong down here, but if Naoto cares, then it’s gotta be interesting.

“Unknown." Naoto fidgets with the edge of a roof tile, but doesn’t look away from the sky. "A best case scenario might be to hope we’ve somehow been transported to the southern hemisphere by whatever strange power moved mountain ranges and grew jungles around us. I admit I’m not as practiced on memorizing southern constellations. Of course that would have unfortunate implications for farming seasons, and we wouldn’t want to delay on finding out so that we could plant as much as possible before winter comes in May." She pauses. "It would explain the weather.”

“That’s the good option?” Kanji asks. “Then what the hell’s the bad one?”

“Whatever event hit us, it altogether altered the orbit of the Earth,” Naoto says. “Hopefully we’re still in a stable orbit around the sun and not in danger of collision. It’s possible that, rather than only Inaba moving, the planet itself has shifted.”

Kanji gapes. “That’s possible?” he demands.

“After what we’ve seen this week I make no claims as to what’s possible,” Naoto says. “It’s possible that whatever force did this to us has a far enough reach that it physically rearranged millions of stars, each as large or larger than our sun, across trillions of miles of space. I find that the most terrifying option, personally.”

…so does Kanji, now. Except for that possibility where it sounded like Naoto was saying they could collide with the sun. “Damn,” he says wonderingly. "You really know how to reassure a guy.“

"Sorry." Naoto’s got this fascinating ability to make herself smaller that Kanji would admire if he didn’t spend so much time kicking himself every time it happens. She folds in on herself and gets even littler. "I’m afraid I’m not very good company tonight.”

There’s a question that’s been on his mind all week, and he hasn’t dared ask it yet, but now Kanji’s thinking maybe he’ll never get a better time. “Hey,” he says awkwardly. "Sorry for bringing it up, but…“

"What?” Naoto asks.

“Where was your granddad?” he asks. Naoto goes stiff.

“Hokkaido,” she says. “On a case in the Kamikawa subprefecture. I’m afraid I can’t tell you the exact town." Like Kanji’s asking for a random fact that has nothing to do with her at all, except that her shoulders are rigid and she won’t look at him or anything all of the sudden.

"Hell." He’d figured it was something like that, since Naoto hadn’t mentioned the old man once this week. Hadn’t mentioned him in public, anyway… "You tell Dojima?”

“He’s had far more important things on his mind,” says Naoto. “There’s hardly anything to be done about it now.”

“He might not be dead,” Kanji offers, and instantly thinks it’s the dumbest thing he could have said. He’s trying to offer comfort, not…whatever the hell that was.

“That may make it worse,” Naoto admits listlessly. “To imagine him in whatever dire situation may be unfolding there, without the protection of a Persona, surely wondering about my well-being as well…" She snorts. "Shiroganes do not do well with uncertainty.”

That’s an understatement if Kanji ever heard one. “Hey,” he says. "You okay?“

"There’s nothing to be done,” Naoto says. “There’s no use in dwelling now. I’ve lost family before. There was nothing I could possibly have done to save them at that time, and similarly whatever may have happened to my grandfather is both out of my hands and out of any possible knowledge I could attain now. It is…ludicrous, to want to set out and find him, when geography is so clearly scrambled and in any case we’re needed here.”

“Are you crying?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Naoto says, and immediately sniffs. “That would be…unproductive, and, and–”

“Hey,” Kanji says, and touches her shoulder.

He’s always real careful about touching Naoto, who’s as prickly about her personal space as a cat, but this time she leans into his hand immediately. After that, well, hell, the only thing Kanji can do is wrap his arms around her in a hug.

“This is stupid,” Naoto says, but she’s not trying to pull away, and his shoulder’s definitely starting to feel wet. “This is terrible, it doesn’t accomplish anything, he wouldn’t want…”

“Hey, I’ve been there, remember?" Lot of long nights in his room trying not to cry because he figured it wasn’t what his old man would want. That’s not fair to ask from a kid, and it’s not fair for Naoto to feel that way now. "Feels better if you cry. You’ve got to let it all out.”

She hiccups in his arms, and any other night Kanji’s brain would be flipping out about having Shirogane Naoto in his arms, but goddamnit, his brain can just get over it and worry about making sure they don’t slip on the roof while Naoto’s crying instead. “I’m sorry,” she says.

“Don’t be,” says Kanji. If it were his Ma, they probably would’ve had to scrape him up off the pavement after he ran headfirst into the first monster they saw. He got lucky. "Go ahead, I’m not going anywhere.“

.

****

Rise loses Teddie somewhere in the crowd at some point, and she should care, but if she paid attention to where he went then she’d have to pay attention to where _everybody_ went, she’s always _watching where everybody went_ –

She spots him fast asleep under a tree and everything feels better, for just a second. Until she realizes that she doesn’t know where Chie and Yukiko ended up, and Kanji and Naoto still haven’t come back yet either.

Rise hates beer, she’s decided. It tastes awful and her head is spinning, but it doesn’t make her as silly as she wants to be. Risette is all made of her but she’s not always Risette, and right now she’s _not_.

Not silly. Not giddy. Not having fun, not at all, just standing in the middle of a dance floor all by herself while the musicians take a break, all alone with no idea where any of her friends are tonight except for _not here_.

It’s dark and crowded. Kanzeon would be able to pick the team out of the crowd in a heartbeat, but Rise isn’t going to summon her persona just to find people at a party. It’s a party. She should be partying.

"Shit,” Yosuke says by her shoulder, making Rise jump. When she glances back, he’s looking at Teddie. "I’m not carrying him up to bed.“

"We can’t just leave him,” Rise protests, even though thirty seconds ago she was planning to do just that. Yosuke rolls his eyes.

“He sleeps on the ground in his world all the time,” he says. “I’m not dealing with him tonight.”

“Well, I think you’re a bad friend,” Rise says petulantly, folding her arms.

“Yeah,” Yosuke says, flatly. “That’s me.”

He’s supposed to argue with her, or give in and wake Teddie up, or something. He’s not supposed to just agree. Rise rubs at her eyes. "I don’t want to be at this party any more,“ she says.

"You said it,” Yosuke agrees. “Come on.”

Teddie’s not the only person laying out on the grass. The corridors of the inn are mostly deserted. It’s dark inside, with all the electricity still out, and creepy. Their rooms are up on the third floor. Rise grabs for Yosuke’s wrist and catches his hand instead. She slips her fingers between his. It almost makes her feel better.

It’s not like holding Souji’s hand. Yosuke’s nothing like Souji at all. He’s here, though, letting Rise hold his hand in the dark. He’s here.

“My parents live in Tokyo,” Rise blurts out. Yosuke stops walking. "You weren’t going to ask, right? Nobody was going to say anything. My grandparents are fine, but my parents and my little brother all live in Tokyo.“

"Are you okay?” Yosuke asks. She squeezes his hand tighter, and he squeezes back.

“I don’t know,” Rise admits. “I’m scared. I don’t want to be alone.”

There’s a little sliver of a window in the stairwell, so even though she can’t see Yosuke’s face she can see the outline of his silhouette in the dark. It’s all so dim and close, though, and now that she’s stopped moving her head is swimming, so she doesn’t actually realize what he’s doing until his lips are on hers.

Rise hasn’t even been kissed half a dozen times, except on camera. She opens her lips in surprise more than anything, and clutches for Yosuke’s shoulder with her free hand. His lips are a little bit rough and chapped and they push too forcefully against hers, and when Rise manages to grab his shoulder, she pulls him closer first, because–

Because. _Because_. Her brain catches up and she pushes, a little, and Yosuke breaks away immediately.

“What are you doing?” Rise asks. It should sound like a demand, like she’s angry, or something, but mostly she just sound shaky.

“I have no idea,” Yosuke admits. “I’m kind of drunk and you’re upset and it seemed like a good idea.”

Chie would slap him, and maybe Yukiko, too, but Rise isn’t Chie or Yukiko or anyone, really. She’s just herself. She’s not Souji. She can’t be smart and right about everything all the time.

“It’s not fair,” Rise says. “Just because I don’t want to be alone.”

“I hate alone,” Yosuke says. He’s only half listening to her, but his body is here, with her body, and he definitely means it.

She knew how Yosuke felt about being alone already. She knows Yosuke–he’s her friend. They trust each other. They faced the end of the world together once. This is weird, and wrong, and the whole world is weird and wrong, and what if Rise just kisses him again anyway? Then she doesn’t have to say anything, does she?

She’s supposed to be doing this with Souji, but Souji’s in Tokyo and maybe there’s no more Tokyo at all. She’s supposed to be doing this with Souji, who’s her friend and who’s never been anything but her friend, but there’s a warm body here and if Rise just pulls his shoulder forward, grabs the back of his neck and pulls Yosuke down, then–

“Me too,” Rise says against his lips, and then she sticks her tongue between them and they’re kissing all over again.

It makes sense, almost, Kanji and Naoto have always had something special, and Chie and Yukiko have had each other since years before Rise even met them, and Teddie and Nanako are both fast asleep but they’d probably still be playing or sitting together if they weren’t, and…

Well, here they are. The spares. Left over together. And Yosuke has a hand on her waist, and it’s warm through her shirt and it feels nice. This all feels nice.

“Nanako’s asleep in your room,” Yosuke mutters against her lips. “We can’t go there.”

“Where are we going?” Rise’s brain is on a delay or something, it keeps taking her so many seconds to catch up with what’s going on. They can’t stay in the stairwell.

“Dojima’s coming back to ours,” Yosuke groans. “We need a room.”

A room, with a…a futon, at least, and what does Yosuke think is going to happen tonight? What is he expecting? His hands are still on her back and waist, but– but–

“Across the hall,” Rise remembers. “They left this morning.”

She doesn’t care. She doesn’t. She wants to kiss someone and feel his arms and if Yosuke’s that someone then at least Rise trusts him, and if he wants more than just kissing, then, well…

Her head’s a little dizzy and the world’s even closer to ending than it ever was before. She’ll probably let him.

.  


Naoto and Kanji climb down from the roof with sunlight breaking the horizon. Naoto’s eyes are red and Kanji’s shoulder is damp, but they’ve said all they need to say about it, and it’s a new day. The world hasn’t ended. It is, against all expectations, tomorrow.

Nanako’s fast asleep and Naoto is exhausted, so she settles down into her futon without waiting or wondering too much about the other girls. Kanji eyes the guys’ room for a second before just absolutely refusing to give in to the awkwardness of apparently sharing a room alone with Dojima-san. They can at least get a few hours of sleep before the sun and everybody else are really up and they’re back at it again.

Chie and Yukiko slipped off to the empty hot springs while everyone else was busy with the music and the dancing and the strained, too-intense need to celebrate not being as dead as the ones they’d lost. The water was dark and quiet and warm, and helped wash away some of the tears, and they find themselves back in Yukiko’s own bedroom afterwards, half-unfamiliar in the dim flickering light of the flame cupped in Yukiko’s palm. It’s empty, tonight; the four maids who’ve been sharing it all week just cleared out this morning. Yukiko doesn’t have a spare futon in her closet, but they can share.

In the morning, in a few hours, Teddie will wake up on the grass under a tree, damp with dew and better-rested than anyone else on the Inaba Special Defense Squad. It was a good party, even if people were sad. Now it’s time for breakfast. Sometimes it’s as easy as that.

Yosuke and Rise will wake up half on top of each other, way too tangled together for propriety’s sake but way too fully-clothed for anything _really_ terrible to’ve happened last night. It was a mistake, probably. It doesn’t need to happen again, unless it does.

They’ll all wake up, one by one, and make their way down for the communal breakfast the Inn’s been putting together every morning, bowls of plain rice and a few cooked eggs, because one of the salvage parties found half a dozen chickens in a pen next to an abandoned house two days ago and brought them back. If they can find a rooster in the next few weeks, they’ll be able to hatch out new baby chicks before winter, if winter is coming.

They’ll get by, bit by bit. Buildings can be rebuilt. Defenses can be bolstered and manned. Anything alive can grow.

.  


In a year, there will be another party at the Amagi Inn–on purpose, this time. The squad will receive official invitations, along with the rest of Inaba, because they won’t live there any more, and they’ll come, because a year of living past the end of the world is worth celebrating, without any shame attached to it.

There won’t be any beer, but there will be plenty of home-brewed rice wine, and Dojima’s drink limit will relax for all of the kids and for himself–on a night when he truly doesn’t expect sixteen things to go wrong before dawn, he’ll let himself get drunk the way he used to at the end of a big case, when he could finally put a burden down.

Rise will sing. There will be more instruments, a band that actually practiced together, handmade pipes and a whole set of makeshift drums, and Rise will sing, and everybody will dance. Yukiko and Chie will dance together, because nobody would dare stop them, and Teddie will dance with every woman between the ages of five and ninety-five who’s willing, and Yosuke will stick to the ones between fifteen and twenty-five, but same. Naoto and Kanji will stand awkwardly at the edge of the dance floor, and each time one of them almost turns to say something, to issue an invitation, the other will turn just in time and they’ll both chicken out. They’ll finally, finally make it out onto the dance floor and try awkwardly to arrange for leading and following when Kanji’s a foot taller but both of them would rather Naoto guide them around, and finally work out an appropriate position for hands and arms, not too close but not too far away, just as the song ends and the band goes on a set break.

They’ll celebrate. Some people at the party will end up puking in bushes, but not many, and some people will drunkenly decide to make out or even more, but they’ll do it in joy and relief–because next year, the town will still be here, and in a year, they’ll still be alive, they’ll know, in a year, that they’ve survived. The terror and grief will be old enough to wear the edges off, to still remind every person there to live while they can.  


In a year, they’ll have a party, and they’ll mean it. Nanako will chase fireflies with the other children, and collapse in a happy pile on their family’s picnic blanket, and she and Teddie will both fall asleep on the grass again, next to each other, and eventually everybody else will pile in with them because it’s a hot summer’s night and it’s good for sleeping on grass. Three engagements between different townspeople will be made and two will be broken, all in one night. There might even be fireworks. It’ll be a good night.

Souji won’t be there for it, but it’ll be good, nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr at [c-is-for-circinate](https://c_is_for_circinate.tumblr.com), where I mainly blog Critical Role and Persona meta plus the occasional dose of dead silence for a week straight, or at [heythat'sdeath](https://heythatsdeath.tumblr.com), where my co-mod and I used to leave all our Persona-related chatfics before the ADHD devoured our executive function.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometime around 2011 or 2012 I started throwing ideas and ficlets around on my tumblr for something I called the Apocaverse--a sort of multifandom place for me to play around with characters from a number of different shows I was into at the time. I've always loved post-apocalyptic fiction, and I was fascinated by the idea of watching heroes who're accustomed to saving the world again and again have to deal with the fallout of some other hero on the other side of the world fucking it up. The universe was always far less about surviving the chaos of the end of the world itself, and more about the rebuilding after, which is of course where my heart really lays--fewer zombies and pandemics (oh if only we'd known then!), more vaguely pastoral survivalist farming and trying to rebuild functional city-states through sheer willpower and determination.
> 
> Somewhere along the line, various Persona characters got incorporated to my vast and sprawling headcanon of how this universe works together. Somewhere along the line I lost track with almost every show I'd originally envisioned in this universe, except the Persona games. Out of everything I'm hoping to copy over to AO3 in the next couple of weeks, this is the one story I might actually keep poking at; I already know exactly what the various persona-users in P3-P5 are up to in this universe, so I might as well keep going, right?


End file.
